


Moon River.

by xerxezra



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-05-09 16:19:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14719484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xerxezra/pseuds/xerxezra
Summary: A chance encounter changes two lives - sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ...Two drifters off to see the world  
>  There's such a crazy world to see  
> We're all chasin' after all the same  
> Chasing after our rainbow's end
> 
> Moon river wider than a mile  
> I'm crossin' you in style someday  
> My dream maker  
> Heartbreaker  
> Wherever you're going, I'm going the same...  
> \- Henry Mancini

By the third missed call from her overbearing brother, Grace Smith knew her morning was completely and utterly fucked. It didn’t matter that she had spent all night going over and finalizing his enormous list of demands for the development team to move up the launch date, nor did it matter that said demands forced her into a manic dash to revise the rough draft of trajectory computations for the Martian Landing Initiative project. When Jerry Smith, self-proclaimed leader of the corporatocracy that is the United States and overall top-notch douchebag, expects you to be at least an hour early to a departmental meeting for progress reports, then you better damn well be there.

Unfortunately for Grace, justifying her thirty-minutes-late tardiness with sleep deprivation just wasn’t going cut it today. Nevertheless, she soldiered on through the crowd of city folk while clutching a tray of conciliatory coffees in one hand and a stack of blueprints in the other. Seeing as how the topic of today’s discussion centered around her ever-delaying shuttle launch, Grace knew they were just going to have to deal with her lateness. 

Feeling the tell-tale vibrations of yet another incoming call coming from her satchel bag, she opted for a quick moment to let Jerry know where she was. Maneuvering the schematics under the same arm that held the coffee tray and trying to fish out her cellphone had unintended consequences, however. Namely that, in typical Grace fashion, rounding the corner while power walking and not paying attention to what’s ahead of her propelled her headlong into a poor stranger. 

Shit.

Coffees and schematics were flung to the side in her haste to avoid splashing the man, while his arm shot out grasping her upper arm to stabilize her fall. 

“O-oh no, are you a-alright, miss?!” 

Grace quickly regained some semblance of propriety and met the man’s concerned gaze. Her attention shifted to the shockingly blue hair for a moment, but she forced herself to behave. “I’m the one at fault, I’m so sorry for ramming into you like that!” she quickly blurted out. Belatedly, she realized that he clutched a ruined ice cream cone, with half of its contents now splattered onto the pavement. Grace felt her face flush from shame. “And I’m terribly sorry for _that_ , I can-“

“No need to worry!” he interjected and offered her a wide smile. “H-here, l-l-let me help you get those documents!” 

Double shit. Papers scattered to the wind. She could really use a cigarette right now. Why she didn’t insist on using graphical interfaces and computer simulations to save herself from disasters like these, Lord only knew why. 

She flashed a grateful smile at him and thanked him profusely before surveying the scene.

Bemoaning the coffee-stained, footprint-covered mess of her schematics, Grace meekly gathered the papers within her vicinity and placed the empty coffee cups onto their tray. She chucked the ruined goods into a nearby trash bin. “What a mess I’ve made…” she muttered, dragging a hand through her curly auburn hair and glancing at the stranger.

He absentmindedly munched on the ice cream cone, weaving through the passing crowd for her schematics. His attention slowly shifted from dutifully collecting the papers to glancing them over with a curious expression on his face. 

“You’re pretty lucky, you know,” she said with a cheeky grin. “Not a lot of people get to see firsthand what NASA’s cooking up. I’m Grace Smith, by the way. Thanks for the help!” 

He gave her papers back and offered her a handshake, which she gladly accepted. “Wow, NASA? That-t-that’s impressive! I guess you work at that big fancy building nearby. Oh, and I-I’m Rick; nice to meet you!” 

“Well Rick,” she quickly glanced at her wristwatch, mentally panicking at the time. “I really have to get going, but once again, sorry for bumping into you like that!” 

“It’s not — no problem at all! But before you go,” he hurriedly added just as she turned to leave. She quirked a curious eyebrow at him. “I-I noticed on page 17, you plan on using an ion engine as a propulsion mechanism in deep space, and the calculations are all correct, but might I suggest incorporating an orion drive with a nuclear putt-putt motor that has a nanotech pusher plate —“ 

And on he went to describe the most eloquently proposed rocket propulsion system conjured from thin air within a span of five minutes. It almost seemed too good to be true if not for the fact that his suggestions were interspersed with actual, peer-reviewed experimental concepts. By the end of this man's elated speech, Grace’s mouth hung open in shock. 

“Rick, do you work for us?” she vehemently pressed, although she knew the answer to that already. A genius like this would certainly be on her team by now.

He chuckled. “N-not a chance! I’ve done pretty well so far on my own. I prefer to fly under the radar, so to speak.” 

The weight of her wristwatch felt like the phantom sensation of her brother’s hand wrapped tightly in impatient disapproval. But there was no way in hell she’d let an opportunity like this escape her. Besides, he had _blue hair_ , and sported a lab coat! Grace _needed_ to know more about him. 

“But how can you possibly understand what I have on paper — some of this stuff is entirely conceptual and, quite frankly, _classified_!” 

“I dabble in all kinds of science, it really helps you be the master of your own choices,” he said wistfully. 

She giggled. “What a cryptic answer; have I stumbled upon a mad genius?” 

“Of sorts,” he said with a tight smile. 

_Now I have to know who this man is…_ ”Well, Mr. Mad Genius, I have a proposition for you.” 

His unibrow furrowed. “O-Oh?” 

“Since I owe you for that wasted ice cream, would you like to join me for lunch? Maybe sometime tomorrow, because I’m gonna be busy all day today.” 

From the telltale blush and shocked expression on the poor man’s face, she figured that, perhaps, she may have been too forward. 

After a moment of failed attempts to formulate a response, Rick finally stammered out, “T-that’s, yes, I’d like that! But not because you owe me, you know…y-you definitely don’t —“ 

She decided to give him a reprieve, seeing as how he was sending himself into a tizzy. “I’m glad to hear it! We could meet at Shoney’s, maybe two o’clock?” 

He nodded sharply, and despite the nervousness radiating off of him, still mustered up a shy smile. His mousiness did not surprise her — the genius ones were always the most awkward. And in combination with those prominent buck teeth, the man painted a rather endearing picture of himself.

“Well Rick,” she held out her hand, “I look forward to seeing you again.” 

“Y-you too! I-I mean, likewise…” he hurriedly stammered as his hand darted out to shake her own. She noted the roughness of his palms that could only be attributed to a lifetime of hands-on work. 

With a final wave to her new friend, Grace quickly transitioned from power walking to running to the office building like her safety depended on it. She hastily greeted friendly coworkers on the way through the lobbies and rearranged her notes in the elevator, heaving out a sigh of relief when she arrived to her floor. 

Jerry’s secretary shot up in anticipation of her arrival with a binder of compiled logistics data for her presentation, ready and waiting. She was a homely woman with a flair for the 50s era style, a fierce work ethic, and a kind, boisterous spirit to boot. Gone were the days of Jerry’s hot secretary fantasy days — this woman got shit _done _.__

__“Ugh, Betty. What would I do without you?” Grace thanked her and took the proffered binder._ _

__“Don’t you worry, dear! Now get in there before Mr. Smith blows a gasket,” she said. Realizing her error, she slapped a manicured hand over her mouth. “I didn’t say that last bit!”_ _

__Grace laughed, thankful for this period of calm before the storm. She faced the opaque double doors leading to the meeting room, somberly composing herself. Taking a final deep breath, Grace entered with as much nerve as she could muster in those few seconds before she met Jerry’s hard stare._ _

__Gone was her courage. Feeling a flush creeping on, she clutched her paperwork to her chest. The nameless, faceless attendees of the meeting dared not speak. They watched the moment unfold, each secretly glad they were not on the receiving end of their boss’s ire._ _

__Her brother’s hand sharply shot up before she could get a word in edgewise. “Don’t bother. I’m not surprised in the least, just disappointed.”_ _

__And just like that, Grace felt like a child all over again. God, how she hated that word. _Disappointed_. It hung over her like a persistent dark cloud throughout her life, entirely inescapable. Her shoulders sagged from the weight of its meaning. _ _

__Jerry knew it, too. He wielded her insecurities as naturally as it was to breathe._ _

__A sly grin crept onto his face, eyes gleaming in victory._ _

__A heartbeat of silence to prove his point, to prolong her discomfort, and a choking stillness in the room. Now she _really_ needed a cigarette._ _

__“Nevermind, just get on with it,” he flippantly said with a wave of his hand. He strode over to pat her on the shoulder, and with a final warning squeeze, took his seat at the head of the board room table. “I’m sure you have some exciting developments for us, after all. _And_ cut back time on that launch date.” _ _

__Grace quickly began the meeting, passing around the schematics with no small amount of nervousness coloring her voice. This project was her legacy — the first step in sending a human to another planet. Her entire life had been leading up to this monumental effort. What she desperately hoped to prevent, however, was her brother’s overambitious drive to colonize and plunder whatever his influence touched. Bad enough that Earth had to suffer from his greed._ _

__When she’d finished, he nodded in approval with a glint in his eye. She managed to stave off his sour mood from earlier, for now._ _

__As Jerry discussed the logistics of the project with his advisors, about the manpower and capital needed to set things into motion for development, her thoughts wandered to Rick’s proposed corrections to her designs. She hadn’t mentioned nor incorporated his advice, and for good reason._ _

__She knew, of course, all about the flaws. She’d put them there herself._ _

__Anything to prevent her brother from reaching the stars, no matter how desperately she wished to visit them._ _

____

-

Balancing bags of groceries in one arm, Rick whistled a merry tune as he checked the mailbox and entered his home with a spring in his step. “Mooooorty! You’ll never guess who I _literally_ bumped into today!”

His grandson’s head popped up over the living room couch. “Oh jeez, w-was it Jessica?! I didn’t see her at school today...”

“No buddy, sorry to disappoint,” he laughed on his way to the kitchen. Morty came over to help him unload the bags. “I met Grace! _J19ζ7_ Grace!” 

“Hey, that’s — wow, that's awesome! Did you talk to her?”

“You bet! She was rushing somewhere and accidentally ran into me. I don’t even know how I kept up my poker face when I saw her!"

“Man, that’s great. Ricks always look so happy with Graces … Speaking of, did you get her number?” Morty prompted with a smirk. 

He flushed. “Th-that’s too, I-I don’t, I’m not that forward!” he hurriedly said, abandoning the fruits to wring his hands. “But we _are_ going to have lunch at Shoney’s tomorrow…” 

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” Rick squeaked as Morty clapped him on the back. “You’ll get together in no time!”

Rick sputtered at the suggestion. “Morty, we can’t think like that!” 

“Why not?”

“Wh-well, I-I don’t even know anything about her!” 

“What do you mean? You-you’ve met tons of Graces! What’s that, uh, t-that saying on the Citadel? If you know one Grace —“

“You know them all,” Rick finished and shook his head. “That’s just i-i-inaccurate, Morty; we all come from different timelines _because_ we’re inherently different! I mean, look at _me_.” 

Morty hummed in agreement. “You’re definitely the most unRick Rick, b-but that’s a good thing!” he hurriedly added as Rick’s shoulders slumped. “This is gonna be good for you, you’ll see! Jeez, I-I wonder what she’s like. Was she any different from the Citadel Graces?”

“Not particularly, she was just as lovely and pleasant as I imagined she’d be. Gosh, I-I’m really excited for this, Morty!”

His grandson grinned at him eagerly. “She’s in for a whole lot of mindblowers when it comes to you!”

They laughed wholeheartedly at the understatement, imagining all the adventures they’d been on together. That thought gave him pause. It was no secret that Graces got very involved in their Ricks’ lives, many of whom integrated themselves within the Citadel and have become integral parts of its bizarre society. However, Ricks had a propensity for living on the edge, and he was no stranger to the oftentimes dangerous missions he was forced into by the guards. 

But lying about his life made him uneasy. Science and exploration was, after all, a very big part of who he was, and unlike his interdimensional counterparts, Rick understood the harm of hiding one’s true self from others. 

He caught himself from sighing to keep Morty from questioning his sudden sullen mood. Rick decided that he could hold off on the complicated issues for now. For all he knew, tomorrow could go horribly wrong and he would never see this Grace again. 

He could feel the hurtful remarks of the guards worming their way into his thoughts. 

_Y-y-you seriously think she’ll give two shits about what you have to say?_

_Look at you, you’re just a shit-eating ding-dong._

_You can’t do anything right!_

_Fuckin’ doofus!_

_Am I really way in over my head here?_ He thought to himself. _Gosh, what was I even thinking, getting all worked up and excited…_

He felt Morty’s reassuring pat on his shoulder. “I know that look — y-you’re overthinking things again, aren’t you? It’s gonna be alright, Grandpa.” 

Rick nodded, hoping to look more convincing than he felt. Morty always took it upon himself to make him feel better when self-doubt reared its ugly head, and the last thing he wanted was for a teenager to take on his troubles. He refused to be like the _other_ Ricks, despite what they thought of him. So he thanked his grandson with a noogie and promises to visit Blips and Chitz in the near future, imagining a reality where some things just finally went _right_ in his life.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i uh...have no excuse for why this took so long. apart from severe writer's block and starting my doctorate. but i'll never give up on this story!

Grace swore to herself that she wouldn’t be late _this_ time, so she battled rush hour traffic in the heat of summer by avoiding panicked dashes through crowded streets. No need to repeat yesterday’s blunder, no matter how unexpectedly decent the outcome had been. 

She had left the laboratory early, satisfied with the progress of her development team’s ongoing beta testing for durable shielding. Her space shuttle might never take off, but that didn’t mean she could not enjoy the science of it all. 

The striped awnings of Shoney’s caught her attention, and she hastily made her way to the restaurant. Today was a new day; she would make a new friend and enjoy the freedom of Jerry’s absence while he visited their miserable parents without her. An excellent day, indeed.

Rick was as punctual as she expected him to be, sticking out from the booths like a sore thumb due to his height. He noticed her almost immediately, and with a shy wave beckoned her over. They changed greetings as she slid into the seat across from him and quickly ordered some sandwiches. 

“S-so, did my suggestions help out yesterday?” he asked with a hint of nervousness. 

“Yep!” she lied, hoping her enthusiasm covered her guilt. The man really did mean to help her, after all. “I’ve incorporated them into the drafts. Still need to do more solid research on the propulsion system you mentioned, but it’ll go through in the end."

The tension in his frame seemed to diffuse a little. “That’s good, i-it will significantly reduce costs and time constraints. I spent a lot of years trying to — to get the science right for my own sake.”

“Right,” she wove her fingers together and narrowed her eyes. “And that’s precisely what I’m interested in. Who are you, Rick?” 

Her voice may have been a tad too serious, because his smile diffused into a worried frown. “Gosh, I-I’m just a scientist, I work on a lot of different projects. My interests a-are, um — I’m pretty scatterbrained with the things I like, so I guess I do it all!” 

“But being able to read what I had on my papers means you have an advanced understanding of analytical geometry and engineering. Surely this must be your strong suit?” 

“Oh, f-for sure, absolutely. I also dabble in organic chemistry and physics, biomedical engineering, environmental sciences, anatomy, just a whole array of subjects. If it’s — if it’s science, th-then I do it,” he replied with increasing vigor. Clearly this was a welcome topic of conversation, so she steered straight into engineering to keep Rick in a good mood. 

What was meant to be a casual chit chat morphed into the most intense discussion of quantum mechanics in aeronautical command and data handling systems she had ever taken part in. Yet again, the man’s brilliance utterly stumped her. 

“So you’re telling me, you’ve devised a simple solution for overcoming processing speed?” Grace asked with no small amount of doubt in her voice as she shucked the tomatoes out of her sandwich. 

Rick merrily took a bite of his recently-brought sandwich and nodded. “Ever heard of the magic Russian diamond?” She shook her head. “It’s a very, very rare diamond that has a-a-an extremely pure composition of carbon atoms. What makes it special, however, is the nitrogen vacancy center. Since the carbon lattice is highly stabilized, any nitrogen atom impurities inside the diamond that's missing a bond to carbon has a — a stabilized electron _spin_. Spin is an important property of quantum computing that needs to be controlled, so that the readout of qubits — the one’s and zero’s in computer language — are comprehensible. S-so basically, creating processor components from purified diamonds brings us one step closer to quantum computing! Pretty cool, huh?” 

“I will _definitely_ do more research on this; the potential seems astronomical!” She leaned in closer and lowered her voice as though they were conspirators in the black market of science. “Is this when you tell me you’ve created a processor like that?”

“A-a-actually, I have. I-it’s rigged up to, uh, well, t-to my spaceship —“ 

Her smile fell and settled into a deadpan expression. “Rick, I’m starting to see that I can’t tell when you’re being serious or not.” 

“I-I-I am! Being serious, that is. Y-you should — I can show you! I have a whole lab filled with inventions you’ll find interesting.”

Grace hummed in thought, weighing the pros and cons of visiting a stranger’s house. On one hand, she might be walking into a death trap. On the other hand, science! “That’s very kind of you, I’d love to see it sometime.”

Rick’s face lit up in excitement, his childlike eagerness a soothing balm for her worries about accepting his offer. He really was just a sweet man, perhaps a little lonely and in need of friendly company. She could relate to that; being Jerry’s sister was its own special kind of isolation. Her mind wandered to yesterday’s meeting, the blank faces of executives, judgmental and cold — 

“So, uh…Grace, wh-why don’t you tell me a little about yourself?” She snapped out of her momentary lapse, a little shocked by his question.

“About myself? Well…” She thoughtfully looked to the side as she contemplated what to say. Moments like these were always the hardest — her life was extraordinarily boring. “I, ah, suppose there’s not much to me, I’m afraid. Just your regular run-of-the-mill scientist who wants to explore space."

“Ohoho, there’s — y-y-you have no idea how much is out there.” Grace quirked a brow at the statement. “But, I — I’m sure there’s more to you than that! We’re not entirely defined by our jobs, after all.” 

“That’s true…I suppose I can start off with my area of expertise, since I’m very much in love with what I do.” She took a quick sip of her drink and continued. “I specialize in propulsion systems, though I’ve dabbled quite a bit in computational aeroscience during my doctorate training at Stanford."

Rick took a bite out of his sandwich as she spoke, gulping it down so quickly she thought he might choke. “Stanford! Wow, s-so you must be — must be very disciplined in developing computation-based predictive tools f-for cost and risk analysis.” 

“Spot on,” she replied. “Despite the fact that our team consists of people from all fields, my training has somewhat forced me into a managerial role. I do a lot more paperwork than building these days, unfortunately.” She sighed, thinking about her beloved, scarcely used work station in the labs. “I’m afraid my time spent with corporate is taking away any opportunities to stay up to date with new research. I really miss getting down and dirty with machines.”

“I hear that,” Rick said sympathetically. “Th-the guys upstairs usually don’t know what they’re talking about. It’s all about — a-about cutting costs here and neglecting safety protocols there, with no regard for a-a-anyone’s input!”

Grace nodded her head vigorously, relieved to have found a kindred spirit. “That’s exactly how things are progressing right now! It’s utterly infuriating, but I like to think that it’ll get done … someday, at least.” 

“See, that’s why I don’t work for anyone,” Rick said with a mouthful of food. “Bureaucracy just slows things down, stifles innovation.”

“I couldn’t agree more. Hell, I’d love to do things on my own, but the amount of capital and resources needed would be unfeasible!” Rick peered at her with a slight smile, as though she had said a funny joke. “… right, you’ve got that all figured out apparently, haven’t you?”

“For the most part,” he conceded. “I’ve developed a l-lot of — of self-sustaining power generators, but most of my projects these days don’t require too much energy anyway."

Grace sipped her drink as she considered his words. It was fairly evident that Rick was trying to keep his secrets. But buried within each answer was a clue that brought her closer and closer to understanding the eccentric man. She traced patterns among the ice in her drink with the straw, thinking about what to ask next during the natural lull in conversation. “And where did you go? For university, I mean.”

“Oh, I’m self-taught.”

“Rick."

“I’m serious!” he replied with a good-natured laugh. “School has always been, uh … a — a little difficult for me. N-not necessarily the subject matter, but, oh, how should I put it? I suppose it was the social rigidness of it all, a-a-and having to conform to the rules. You have to understand, growing up in the sixties wasn’t easy for — for someone like me.”

She cocked her head to the side. “Someone like you?”

“W-well, you know …” Rick scratched the back of his head. “Someone who’s always thinking outside of the box. To — to put it lightly.”

“I think I understand. But it’s usually the intellectually rebellious types who make it far in life.”

“Ohoho, I like that term!” He leaned back against his seat and folded his hands across his stomach, sighing in contentment from the delicious meal. “Were _you_ ever the — th-the rebellious type?”

Thoughts of her mother flashed through her mind. “Only with respect to what my family expected of me. A woman putting her career first? Simply unthinkable.” 

Rick cast her a sympathetic look and nodded. “It’s never easy to go against family. You’re very brave and strong to do so.”

“I…” Oh, this was never an easy topic for her. She propped her chin into the palm of her hand and frowned, fiddling with the tomatoes on her plate with a fork. “Let’s just say you’re giving me far too much credit.” 

“Something tells me that — that’s not true.” Compelled by his serious tone, Grace looked up at him. Rick continued, undeterred by her incredulous stare. “Everyone deals with personal struggles differently. I like to think of it like this: our wins and losses are an ebb and flow. Sometimes y-you feel like you’re drowning under the — the weight of it all, but sometimes…s-sometimes you _win_.”

Grace let out a dry laugh. “I don’t know how much I’ve been winning, but thank you for the vote of confidence.”

“Hey, don’t — don’t sell yourself short! We’ve only known e-each other for a short amount of time, but I-I-I can already tell you’re a wonderful person!”

“You think so, huh?” she asked with a light smile. “And you seem to be the sort of person who others find easy to be around.” 

“W-well, that’s uh, that’s relative, I’d say.” Rick lowered his voice and muttered offhandedly, “Especially considering the kind of — of _people_ I’m around most days. Not the friendliest bunch.” 

“But I thought you said you don’t work for anyone?”

“I don’t. But I do work _with_ people on occasion when I do freelance work. It’s — it’s kind of tricky to explain.”

She waved a hand. “Don’t worry about it, I kind of get it. Say, when do you think I’ll be able to visit your lab?” 

“Oh! Y-y-you really — you’d really want to come by?” he excitedly asked, leaning forward with both hands on the table. “If today works for you, o-or even right now, I’d be happy to show you!”

-

She really should have gotten back to work. There was endless paperwork and restructuring of designs to be done. Yet how could she pass up an opportunity like this?

So here they were, endlessly prattling on about cryptic mimicry in plants — a personal interest of hers to read about during idle pastimes at work — while their cab pulled up to a quaint little brick house with a beautifully manicured lawn. Judging by her brief exposure to Rick’s zealous understanding of botany, Grace deduced that he must be one hell of a gardener, as shown by the luscious bloom of fuchsia-colored flowers snaking their way up the brick walls by the front window. 

“Those are lovely flowers,” Grace commented as Rick helped her out of the cab.

“Thank you, I have many more in the backyard.” He rubbed the back of his head as he waved her to follow him. “I-it’s a hobby that’s turned into quite the obsession over the years. Do you have a garden yourself? I would assume so — n-not many people know about the _Boquila trifoliolata_ un-unless they scour the dark corners of botanical journals!”

Grace let out an undignified snort, watching Rick fish out a bundle of keys to unlock the front door. “I live in an apartment, so no luck there. Even if I wanted to, I’m afraid I am quite terrible at keeping anything alive. Not even a cactus would survive my lack of a green thumb.” 

“I-I’m sure it’s not _so_ bad,” he quipped back with a giggle, and stepped aside to let Grace enter the humble abode. 

“Welcome to the Sanchez household! Rick dramatically announced as he followed her inside. "Don’t worry about your shoes, you can keep them on. Here, let me get your bag —“ Grace handed him her satchel and he hung it up on a hook by the coat rack. “ — And let’s get going to the lab!"

Excellent, straight to the point. Making small talk about all the lovely features of someone’s home was never her strong suit — not that it would be difficult in this case. As she gingerly followed Rick through the living room, she couldn’t help admire the eclectic assortment of vintage furniture, hanging artwork and photographs of Rick with a young boy — _His son? Grandson?_ — and a rather beautiful Persian throw rug taking up most of the floor in front of a large television. The earthy tones combined with the pleasant smell of pine trees made her imagine an isolated cabin in the woods. Warm and cosy, just like Rick himself. 

A burst of anxiety washed over Grace when he led her down a basement, but thankfully she managed to school her expression into one of pleasant neutral curiosity. She didn’t need to worry for long, anyway. As they descended the rickety staircase, she caught sight of his various workstations divided by functionality, as well as tall shelving units lining the walls, overflowing with an assortment of lab glassware, small microscopes, and many other odds and ends that Grace could not make sense of. 

And above all else, the sterile cleanliness of Rick’s workspace was truly a sight to behold.

The glint of phosphorescent purple and green hues caught her eye immediately as she stepped closer to one of the workstations. A fist-sized stone lay propped beneath a microscope, shining in all its foreign beauty. 

“I’ve never seen anything like this before,” she said, angling her head closer for a better look. 

“It — ah — i-it’s a recent discovery of mine.” Rick tapped on the glass cabinet above the microscope to direct her attention towards the various minerals stored away inside. “Another hobby, you could say.”

“I could also say your forays into different scientific disciplines is a hobby in of itself!”

Rick chuckled. “Oh my, y-y-you might be on to something there,” he replied, gently patting her back as he led her onward.

-

She _really_ should have gone to work.

And yet, the past two or three hours had been truly enlightening. As soon as she laid eyes upon Rick’s prototype model for the computational system hooked up to a Russian diamond — of his own design, no less — Grace knew she was about to have the most fun she’d ever had in a long while. 

Rick’s collection of unique creations was equal parts science fiction and mad genius. At one point the sheer amount of newfound knowledge being thrown her way made Grace wish she had brought her notepad, but Rick reassured her that she was welcome to come back any time to discuss his research further. 

“And what about this spaceship you mentioned?” she cheekily asked, grinning at Rick’s poor attempt to avoid her gaze. “You shouldn’t have brought it up to an aeronautics engineer, because now I’m afraid I’ll have to hound you for proof.”

“Okay,” he shyly agreed, and nodded. “Okay. It’s in the garage. W-would you like to see my garden first?”

Grace happily accepted.

-

The backyard was as carefully maintained as the rest of his home, covered in a sea of luscious grass and cobblestone pathways that cut through a variety of flowering plants and vegetable gardens. What really caught her eye, however, were the several large greenhouses lined up across the yard.

“Rick, you weren’t kidding when you said you love plants!” she marveled, eager to see what his collection entailed.

He laughed good-naturedly. “T-That’s part of it, but I actually find a lot of use for them, too. Apart from how amazing fresh veggies are, I-I also collect chemical extracts when I’m running experiments,” he explained as they walked to the greenhouses. "You’d be surprised how many valuable molecules are produced by mother nature! Sure, I could synthesize them myself, but why reinvent the wheel, right?” 

Grace nodded in agreement. “I’m beginning to see you are an extremely resourceful man.” 

“I have to be, since it’s not always easy to buy these things when you’re an ‘off-the-grid’ researcher. I-I kind of, uh, avoid dealing with review boards to justify my experiments …” 

She quirked an eyebrow at him. “What in the world do you get up to in that lab?”

“Wh — don’t worry! Nothing dangerous, I swear.”

_Right, that’s convincing._ “Sounds like you neglect peer review, though.” Grace wiggled a finger at him. “Not good, Mister.” 

“I have my own guys for that,” he replied with ease, and before she could ask any further, Rick briskly walked off to the nearest greenhouse and beckoned her over. “Grace, y-you’re gonna love what’s in here!”

She gingerly stepped into the enclosure and nearly suffocated on the spot from the heat. “Goodness, Rick. It’s like a sauna in here.” 

“The momentary discomfort i-is worth it, I promise,” Rick said with a hint of apology in his voice, and pointed to a patch of land situated in a sectioned-off block on a table. “Come, check ‘em out!”

Grace fanned her face with a hand as she joined Rick at his side and looked down. Popping out of the pebbles appeared to be small brain-shaped objects — _are these real?_ — flat, bisectional, and decorated with dark networks of sulci patterns.

“What the heck are these things? They look like some kind of alien mushrooms!”

“A-Alien?” he shot her an amused look. “These are called lithops, the two lobes you see are actually their leaves. They’re shaped like stones to avoid predation. Pretty cool, huh?” 

“Yeah, I’ve never seen anything like it! Any other interesting plants you could show me?”

“ _That_ , my friend, i-is a challenge I don’t plan on losing.”

And this was how Grace learned never to challenge Rick again. Her head was spinning by the time he finished off with a grand finale — a giant in-ground tank that contained the most fuel-efficient strain of algae Rick had discovered thus yet. 

“The amount of biofuel produced by this species rivals modern fuel sources. I — I think I might go public with this sometime in the future. Give — give those oil conglomerates something to be nervous about.” 

“Let me guess, you’ve also figured out a way to mass produce truffles and saffron, too?” Grace teased. 

“I-I might have a hidden farm or two for the pricy stuff,” he replied. Was that a hint of nervousness in his voice? Maybe he wasn’t kidding.

The tour was finished off with a winding path that led to a remote cobblestoned seating area, where a rickety wooden bench faced a beautiful little pond. Grace pictured Rick sitting here on a sunny day with a book propped up on his lap and a cup of tea beside him, listening to the gentle sound of ripples fanning out through the water. 

Grace cooed at a lone turtle basking atop a rock in the middle of the pond. “How cute,” she quietly remarked, pulling out her phone to take a picture of the lovely scene. Rick stood aside and patiently waited, smiling at her antics.

Just as she settled closer to get a good shot, the turtle pushed itself foward and plopped back into the water. “Oh no!” She laughed. “I think I scared it.”

“He’ll be back out soon again,” Rick reassured her kindly, offering her a hand to pull her back up.

-

On the way back inside, Grace sought to have a few unanswered questions explained.

“Rick, if you keep to yourself and avoid review boards, then does that mean you’re a privately funded lab?"

“For the most part. I do have sponsors here and there, m-mostly kind donations from those I’ve helped. B-b-but I make enough to sustain my career.” 

“Does the government know about you?”

“Nope, and I don’t know anything about the government.” Grace quirked an eyebrow at that. Surely he couldn’t be entirely ignorant of her brother’s conquests. He must have meant that the _intricacies_ of politics did not concern him. She certainly did not blame him. 

“So no grants, no publications? You _must_ have publications."

“No. I do write papers though — keeps my — my research organized.”

“Do you keep them somewhere here?”

“Why, yes! Right here is my library —“ He led her through a set of antique doors just beside the backyard entrance, and Grace inwardly swooned at the sight. “I admit, th-this is one of my favorite places to be.”

“I can see why,” she quietly replied, captivated by the ceiling-high bookshelves lining the walls of this small space. To the right of the room was a giant bay window through which an ample amount of sunlight shined, giving a beautiful view of the backyard. Grace carefully avoided stepping on the carpet with her shoes, her heels clicking against the wooden parquet flooring as her hand trailed along a leather couch facing the window. 

She tore her gaze away from the atmospheric scenery and examined Rick’s prized collection. Everything was carefully alphabetized and catalogued by subject, date, and volume. There must have been over a hundred individual books lining the shelves, decades-worth of research that left Grace reeling from the sheer amount of knowledge sequestered from the world. 

Her fingertips ran against the spines of binders and notebooks, reading the various titles. “Are you telling me this is all yours?"

“Yep!”

“Each and every single thing here is filled with your research?”

Rick nodded cheerfully, gazing upon his vast collection with fondness. “Looooots of years spent working on all of this.” 

“This is … like the library of Alexandria …”

“Ohohoho, it’s not like I can do anything with it anyway, since none of it is peer reviewed. I tend to just offer my services as favors, or share my knowledge pro bono.”

“How do you make a living off of it?”

“Eh, what’s money anyways, right?"

Her mind flashed to her brother. Would she ever stop comparing everything to Jerry? Probably not. “I think I’m ready to see your spaceship now,” she softly muttered, and dear Rick, non the wiser, led her away with glee.

-

“This is it.”

“Y-yeah! I, uh —“ Rick wriggled his hands together at Grace’s bemused expression. “I know it doesn’t look like much, but I-I-I promise it’s the real deal. I’d show you right now if I could, but I’m afraid the old thing’s not in working order at the moment. Gosh, I totally forgot about that wh-when I mentioned it to you, I’m so sorry to disappoint!”

It certainly looked like it had seen better days, Grace thought to herself as she circled the strange spaceship, its comical build reminiscent of cheesy retro science-fiction saucers. The metal casing was haphazardly welded together with aging material, and she nearly balked at the thrusters — they were _garbage cans_ , for God’s sake! — and she tried to catch a glimpse of the interior, but the windows were caked in some strange sort of oozing slime that obstructed her view. 

“I’m assuming it’s this goo that’s causing trouble?” she asked, reaching out to poke a finger through it.

Rick hastily zoomed towards her and pulled her hand away. “Y-y-you don’t wanna touch that!” he warned, releasing her wrist after gently petting it. “But yes, it’s some sort of — I call it cosmic glue. Flew right through a giant web of the stuff by accident during a routine mission —“ Rick suddenly shut his mouth, sheepishly looking at Grace as she blinked at him.

“This is … pretend, right? You have a grandson who you play pretend with?”

Rick furrowed his brow. “How do you know about Morty?” he asked, surprisingly on guard.

“I saw some pictures in the living room,” Grace explained. “He looked too young to be your son, so I figured he was a grandson. But now I’m realizing how presumptuous this sounds! Goodness, it’s rude to assume family relations like that, I’m so sorry —“

“N-n-no!” Rick held up his hands in a placating gesture, his signature smile returning once more. “Please, don’t be sorry. You’re actually spot on. Th-that’s why I was a bit surprised.”

Grace sighed in relief. “Glad I didn’t make a fool of myself.” Her attention briefly drifted to the dilapidated spacecraft once more. “So, is this somehow related to your grandson?”

“I can’t really justify it beyond what you see right now, since it’s not working. And it probably won’t be working for a while,” he mumbled sadly. “It’s been gunked up pretty bad. But one day, I-I’ll be sure to show you what it’s all about. For now though, I could show you the final model of the processor! Th-the one in my lab is just the prototype, as I mentioned. The one in this thing —“ He tapped a clean section of the hull. “ — I-It’s the real deal.”

“Well, why not,” Grace said with a smile, waving a hand to prompt Rick. 

According to Rick, the power had been shut off to prevent an explosive reaction with the goo, so she only got to see its appearance. It was a shoebox-sized silver device with a dazzling luminescent center, the source of its energy. Impressive, but not as exciting as Grace had hoped after the eventful day she had spent in his lab. Perhaps the spaceship would ignite her interest at a later date once it was restored to working order. She made sure to keep in touch with Rick until the fateful day would come. 

In a bid to mask her mild disappointment, Grace mustered up her curiosity and searched out the nearest thing that would distract Rick from their current predicament. “Rick, what’s that contraption over there?” she asked, pointing to a large cylindrical machine situated beside a dryer.

“That’s a — that’s a time machine. I’ve been trying to get it functional for decades, but it’s still faulty.”

Grace sauntered over to the thing, curiosity truly grabbing hold of her now. _A time machine?_ She inspected the display window and command module embedded near its entrance, befuddled and intrigued at the possibility of it being real. “How will you know if it works or not?”

“Well I wouldn’t know in the _future_ , but I — I’d send something back in time to the present, to let myself know that the space-time connection has been established.” 

“But if you originally didn’t know if it worked in the past, and sent something later on in the future to test your theory, then you’d know about it in the past, and thus have no need to send anything in the future. Wouldn’t that change the outcome of success?”

“N-not necessarily. I suspect it will create divergent timelines instead.” Rick ran a hand through his hair and quirked a half-smile. “Time travel is really sticky business. Nobody wants to deal with it."

While Rick spoke, Grace continued with her examination, reaching out to trace the metal. A tingling buzz seemed to pull her hand closer. Just as her fingertips settled over the cold exterior, a bright light and slithering smoke erupted between the seams of the machine, accompanied by a strange metallic moaning screech that unnerved her senses. She heard Rick gasp behind her, and whisked her behind him with surprising strength, pushing them both backward towards a safe distance. 

When the machine quieted down and the glow disappeared, only then did that spur him into action. “Th-that wasn’t supposed to happen!” Rick stammered, briskly activating the commands to open the doors of the machine. “How is this possible?! I-It — It’s never — It’s never worked! How?!” 

Grace didn’t know what to say. Theoretical physics was a little out of her league, and Rick seemed excited enough to handle the unexplainable. She watched him over his shoulder curiously as the doors hissed open, and before she could peer inside, Rick held her back once more with a strange gun in hand.

“Let me get a look first; there’s no telling what sort of thing came through that,” he warned. 

She nodded and stepped back, gesturing for him to continue. It all seemed a little bit dramatic for her taste, but she trusted him enough to know what he was doing. Rick gulped nervously and steeled his nerve, squaring his shoulders and cautiously approaching it with the gun poised and ready for danger.

It suddenly struck Grace to wonder why this man would even need a gun in the first place. 

Rick narrowed his eyes to see through the smoke. As he waved it away, all tension seemed to leave him in a relieved chuckle. “Coast is clear,” he told her, waving her over for a look. 

Of all things to appear… 

It was just a simple thing, a silly little stuffed dinosaur laying innocently in the chamber. 

“What the heck is this?” Grace asked, glancing at Rick in confusion.

“I—I don’t know,” he admitted, stepping through the entrance to retrieve the toy. He examined it, turning it to and fro and picking at a noticeable tear in the green fabric. A needle and thread hung loosely from one corner of the rip. Rick poked at the stuffing to bring it back in and deftly took up the task of sowing up the damage. 

"Someone must have been in the middle of fixing it,” she said. “But why would they send that?"

“No clue, I need to figure this out,” he muttered, staring at the toy in deep concentration. “The time machine has never worked before, Grace! This is — i-it’s gotta mean something. Why now? Why send this toy?” He shook his head in disbelief. “Even I don’t fully understand how it works, d-despite building it.”

“A happy little accident,” Grace quipped. “Is this going to consume you for the rest of the day?”

“The day? More like the whole week, o-or until I get a sense of what’s going on.” Rick placed the repaired dinosaur on his workbench and began digging around for a toolkit. “I-I’m sorry to cut this short, but I really must start immediately. There’s no telling what I’ll miss if I wait a moment longer; every second counts!"

“No worries, I’ll leave you to it.” She held out her hand with a smile. “Thank you for showing me around, Rick. Your lab is like something out of a dream!”

Rick blinked at the offered hand, grasping it to pull her in for a sudden hug. Grace nearly jumped out of her skin, standing stiffly in shock as he patted her back. “It was my pleasure, Grace! Please, don’t hesitate to visit sometime.”

She awkwardly settled her hands at a respectable place over his ribs. “I-I’ll do that,” she meekly replied, easing out of the hug and willing her anxiety away. 

He wrung his hands and smiled a little nervously now, all hunched over and rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, I can be a little forward sometimes…” 

“Don’t worry about it, Rick,” Grace reassured, patting his arm to let him know she was alright. “You have fun with this mystery, alright? I’ll be expecting some answers!”

“Ohoho, I’ll write up a full report, Chief!” He saluted, and Grace chuckled as she waved him goodbye. 

Later on, when Grace would have settled into the comfort of her fluffy bedsheets, she would consider the possibility that none of it had been real. Rick could have staged the entire fiasco with the time machine, having planted the toy to shock her with.

But he seemed so utterly stupefied by its appearance. If it had been fake, then Rick was one hell of an actor.

Grace shook her head and closed her eyes, borrowing her face into the pillow. Another visit was in order to make sense of her strange new friend.


End file.
